Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113142 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 566(@200wpm)___ 453(@250wpm)___ 377(@300wpm)
“It stands out. She prefers it if I blend in.”
I rolled my eyes. “You are too special to blend in. She needs to open her eyes and see that fact.”
“Thank you.” She frowned. “Adam, we barely know each other. Are you sure you want to hear this? It’s not your usual let’s get to know each other conversation. It’s…personal and not exactly pleasant.”
I studied her nervous posture. She was right; this wasn’t the sort of conversation I would have with someone I had just met. But Ally was different—how or why, I still didn’t understand, but she was. I wanted her, and in order to have her, I had to hear this.
I pressed a kiss to her lips. “I’m sure. I want to know. Hot getting-to-know-each-other sex will be far more enjoyable, I guarantee you that…but we’ll tackle this first.”
That made her smile, then once again, she became lost to the memories she was sharing.
“My mom remarried a year later, an older man by the name of Ronald. He was—is—very rich. My life changed. Ronald was very strict. I was expected to act a certain way, always be a little lady. My mother—she was never loving and open, like my dad, but she was still my mom, you know? I thought she loved me.”
She pulled on the sleeves of her shirt. I stilled her fingers, holding her hands in mine.
“Of course she did.”
She shrugged. “Not necessarily. I guess when my dad died, it left us in financial trouble, and marrying Ronald solved that problem. She became detached. She was exactly what he wanted: a trophy wife. Younger than him and beautiful—completely at his beck and call. She rarely spent much time with me. She was his first.”
“Yours second?”
She shook her head. “A distant third, maybe fourth. Whatever Ronald deemed important became important to her too. Image, her place in society, Ronald’s reputation—those were always upmost in her mind.”
“Sounds rather cold.”
She took a sip of her wine, her expression desolate. “Ronald had a son. He was six years older than me. He carried Ronald’s surname, his blood. He was more significant than I was. I was made aware of that fact, right from the start.”
I narrowed my eyes in irritation at such a fucked-up statement. This was going to be more intense than I expected.
“I take it you didn’t get along with Prince Charming?”
“No, actually, I adored him, and he, me. He hated the fact that he was doted on and I wasn’t. He used to call me ‘Princess’ and said I should be treated like one.”
I pulled her hands away from her pant leg that she was gripping tightly. She was clutching the material so hard, I was certain she would tear the fabric. I was fast discovering one of her nervous traits. Clothing destruction.
“Do you still get on well?”
Her eyes grew larger in her pale face, then damp as she swallowed and cleared her throat, shaking her head again.
“No. He died.”
CHAPTER
FOUR
I touched my wineglass to Ally’s lips. She’d been silent, and I let her be so she could gather her thoughts. After she took a small sip, I tipped back the glass and swallowed a large mouthful. Given her last statement, I had a feeling I was going to need it. This was an intense conversation, and it had only just started. Still, I wanted to hear it.
“What happened?”
Her voice was quiet when she spoke. “I was eleven, and Oliver was seventeen. I called him Ollie. He called me Princess. Ronald hated that, he and my mother hate nicknames. Whereas Ronald was strict and exacting, Ollie was so different—happy and laid-back. The two of them had been arguing a lot. Ollie had been, ah, in trouble a fair bit—drinking, acting out at school, that sort of thing—I think it was his way of getting back at Ronald’s demands. He was grounded and lost his car, except to go to school.” She sighed sadly. “Poor Ollie had to listen to lecture after lecture from him about his behavior.” A ghost of a smile curled her lips. “He did such a wicked imitation of Ronald. It was so funny. He’d come to my room, flop on my bed, and tell me how much trouble he’d gotten into that day.” She shook her head. “He was so tired of hearing how he had to be responsible and uphold the Givens name. Tired of trying to live up to an image his father had of him.”
“Wait,” I interrupted, “I thought you said your last name is Robbins.”
“It is. Ronald never adopted me, so my name was never changed. He didn’t believe in giving his name to someone who wasn’t ‘really family.’”
I suppressed my urge to swear aloud. What a callous bastard. From what she had said so far, I had a feeling I’d never like either of the two people Ally called her parents once I met them. They seemed to treat her terribly. I had heard of Ronald Givens. He was a well-known investment broker, and he was said to be shrewd and unbending. And with what I was finding out, I would add cruel to the list.